Sunday Morning
by two smart cookies
Summary: The G-boys and two original characters at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. *they would look so cute in uniforms!!*
1. Introduction

Gundam Wing and other copywrighted/regestered characters belong to thier   
rightful owners. The original characters belong to us.  
Please Read and Review ~green queen & princess periwinkle  
  
Sunday Morning  
  
  
Part I - Introduction  
September 1, 1939: World War II begins when the Germans  
suddenly invade Poland. July 1940: Japan invades French  
Indochina. In response to Japan's actions, Roosevelt cuts  
off oil supplies to the Japanese. More than half of Europe  
has fallen to Hitler. When will the United States join the  
Axis resistance and help the weakened European nations? It  
could in the far future, because the US is reluctant to  
enter yet another war so soon after the Great War. December  
of '41 would change all that. 


	2. Where It All Begins

Part II - Where it all begins.  
Pensacola Air Station, Florida: the Base Commander's Office  
A squashy, heavy-set man sat stiffly in a high-backed   
leather chair in front of a gargantuan oak desk. Uniform  
pressed and seamless, cigar clenched tightly between his  
teeth, he was indeed what one would imagine a high ranking  
navel officer would look like: large, intimidating, and  
irritable. Energetic knocking sounded at the closed door. He  
glared; he knew exactly who it was.  
Without awaiting a 'come in,' a tall youth shoved open  
the door. The base commander narrowed his eyes even more.  
"Ya called me for something' chief?" the grinning boy  
said.  
"Maxwell," groused the colonel, eyeing the violet-eyed  
private in distaste.  
"Better make it quick, 'cause I got a hot date with a  
pretty girl all the way from Iowa tonight. What kinda  
gentleman would I be if I disappoint her?" he stated  
cheekily.  
"You're no gentleman, Maxwell, and you can forget your  
date with that farmer's daughter. You got a date with a ship  
in California leaving for Hawaii in four days. Pack your  
bags, Maxwell, you're going to Pearl Harbor."  
"Pearl Harbor?" he said as he toyed with the end of his  
long braid.  
"Yup. I don't like you Maxwell. You're disobedient, you  
have no self-discipline, you're a rascal, and as cagey as  
they come. But you're a damned good pilot. So I'm sending  
you to Pearl Harbor, and letting them deal with you. Don't  
let the door hit you on the way out," the base commander  
said. He rubbed his temples tersely as he felt a migraine  
coming on. "Aloha," he spat.  
Duo Maxwell, naval aviator and devil incarnate, let his  
face split into a grin. "Aloha, indeed."  
  
A Ship From San Francisco Headed For Pearl Harbor  
As the ship pressed on through the rolling Pacific,  
while most stayed inside within the confines of the warm  
main dining hall and the small bunked cabins below, a few  
brave souls ventured forth into the November cold to the  
fore and aft decks to stretch their legs. One of these  
people was quiet noticeable; she was at least 6' and stood a  
head above most. Everything about her for that matter was  
large, including toned bear-claw hands and a round, weighty  
cranium. Greasy short brown hair rebelled the tight pinned  
braids she pulled them in. Glasses perched on her nose.  
A blond man, as small as she was large, approached her  
carefully. He studied her for a moment, his sea foam eyes  
observing her silently before promptly striding over to the  
prone figure leaning over the railing and tapping her on the  
shoulder. She turned and waited expectantly.  
"You must be Nurse Judy Peterson. I am Dr. Quatre  
Winner. You will be serving in my ward I believe? I just  
wished to introduce myself," he smiled warmly.  
The nurse, slightly taken aback, answered a moment  
later, after regarding the man who had broke her peace  
momentarily.  
"Yeah, you've got the right girl. Nice to meet you Dr.  
Winner," she said politely as a small smile ghosted her  
features. They shook hands and then headed inside. It had  
become too cold and windy.  
An Apartment in New York  
"RRRiiinnngg!!! RRRiinnngg!!!"  
A sleepy hand groped blindly for the phone, and after  
several minutes of struggling to locate it, the headset was  
retrieved from its cradle with success.  
"Yeah?" a groggy voice asked, confused as to why anyone  
would call so late.  
"Is this Heero Yuy?" asked a voice.  
"Who's calling?" Heero asked.  
"This is Anthony Davenport, head of communications,  
Pearl Harbor. I have been informed that you can speak  
Japanese and English fluently, correct?" the recruiter asked  
hopefully.  
"Yes," replied a puzzled Heero.  
"We need you to decode Japanese messages at Pearl  
Harbor. Have you ever heard of J-N 25?" inquired Mr.  
Davenport.  
"Not really," remarked Heero.  
Heero could feel the Naval Communications Officer grin  
on the other end of the line. "You will," Anthony said.  
Aboard the USS Arizona  
"Name?" asked the navel transfers officer, without  
looking up from his typewriter.  
"Chang, Wufei."  
After a few minutes of shuffling through a precariously  
balanced pile of files and important looking papers, the  
fidgety transfer guy pulled out a manila file with Wufei's  
name typed neatly across the top. He skimmed it quickly and  
finally looked up at the dark-eyed man for the first time.  
"Gunner, right?" he said.  
"Yes," answered Wufei.  
"You'll be staying on C Deck, and you'll be assigned a  
gun soon enough. Go down this hall and turn to your right at  
the end of it to get your uniform and other standard issue  
stuff and get your list of duties and your official bunk  
assignment." He stamped the file and shuffled it into an  
equally precarious stack on the floor.  
Wufei headed through the door and passed the long line  
of men waiting for their transfers to be ok'ed. The transfer  
officer poked his head out of the door. "Welcome aboard the  
USS Arizona," he said to Wufei's back.  
California Air Force Base  
"Damn, look at those flying skills. All the turns are  
sharp and everything," one awed pilot remarked as the others  
gawked at the plane in the sky. The base commander watched  
with mild interest; the quietest of the naval aviator  
trainees seemed to have the greatest competency when it came  
to flying a plane. As the gifted pilot turned his bird  
toward the runway to land, the commander briskly walked out  
onto the airfield strait to the prodigy aviator. He was  
quite tall, with verdant eyes and brown hair that had been  
styled somehow into one bang that obscured most of his face.  
  
"How'd you like to be stationed at Pearl?" asked the  
commander. "Can't leave you here with these bums," he jerked  
a thumb towards the gaggle of fellow pilots, "while your  
talents go to waste here. What do you say?"  
"Sure,: was all Trowa Barton said.  
Washington D.C. Broadcast News Station  
People bustled around quickly, all having destinations  
to get to; one person was not in the news room longer than  
60 seconds. This was probably the one time in his life  
station manager, John Wie, ever really hated his job. He was  
looking for one specific person, but he couldn't find her.  
"This is the last time I ever do anyone a favor," he vowed  
to himself.   
Not minutes before, but after the news report, John had  
received a call from some friends in Pearl Harbor. After he  
hung up, John went searching through the halls of the  
station. "Evelyn!" yelled John, his annoyance clearly  
showing.  
A Filipino girl looked up from a story splayed over he  
desk. Short black hair toppled her head, and she was dressed  
head to toe in periwinkle. "What?" she replied with more  
than a little annoyance of her own.  
"The US has a lot of its navy at Pearl Harbor; I just  
got a request for a story on it. I know it's hard being a  
woman journalist, so what do you say, Evi, Hawaii sound good  
to you? This could be your big break. And it's a nice easy  
story so you should have no problems," said John.  
After two seconds of consideration, "I'm there," Evelyn  
replied, gathering her papers, film, and her camera. 


	3. Pearl Harbor and December 6,1941

Part III - Pearl Harbor  
Yelps could be heard from the hospital. Men slunk away  
from the place muttering curses and rubbing their sore  
bottoms. A line of new pilots and sailors wound round the  
blindingly white halls; they looked nervous and some a  
little green. Physicals and immunizations were hated and  
feared by all, and the appearance of a giant disguised as a  
nurse brandishing a needle did little to quell their fears.  
Judy eyed the white face recruits and sighed. She turned to  
the purple-eyed boy that clutched the door jam in a death  
grip. "You need to get your shots now. You're holding up the  
line." she said as she began to pry his fingers off the soft  
wood.  
"Can't you be a little easy on me? Give me twenty  
minutes to collect myself," Duo pleaded.  
Nurse Peterson, as her tag proclaimed, lead him to a  
table with a firm hand and prepared the syringe. "The  
government says to stick 'em, we stick 'em," replied Judy.  
She raised her hand high and brought it down hard. Duo let  
out a howl of pain. The others in line smirked as Duo  
flinched as he stood. Still others paled further.  
"Wouldn't be laughing boys. You're next," laughed Dr.  
Quatre. "Next is Barton, Trowa ."  
  
Heero strolled around the base. He walked quickly pass  
Battleship Row, the small infirmary/hospital building, and  
air field, small residences, and the command station. He  
paused to gaze at the blazing sun sink below the horizon. A  
throat cleared lightly behind him, and he turned.  
"Heero Yuy?" asked a dignified man is early forties. He  
was tall with a thin waist; he was fit for a man past his  
prime. His faced was lined but friendly. The heavily adorned  
and meticulously ironed uniform left no doubt in Heero's  
mind to who he was. "I'm Commander Wilkens. Can't wait to  
start cracking those codes?" he asked, giving Heero a firm  
handshake.  
"I'd like to put my bags away first if you don't mind,"  
said Heero.  
Wilkens laughed. "Right. Your quarters are down the  
street. Here. I'll drive you," he said, taking out his jeep  
keys.  
  
Wufei stood on the decks of USS Arizona. Below him, a  
boxing match was in session on deck. One of the men threw a  
hard punch, and his opponent fell hard to the ground.  
"There's no point, nor justice in that," he muttered as his  
deep blue sailor scarf fluttered in the wind. He saw some  
planes circle around overhead and land on the air field. It  
was difficult to see them in the waning light of the late  
afternoon. "The new pilots must of arrived by now," he  
concluded. Bored, Wufei walked off the USS Arizona and to a  
small boat headed towards Hospital Point.   
  
Evelyn walked down the streets around the harbor  
heading towards Hospital Point. She began to pout. "I think  
I should of stayed in Washington," she muttered. She had two  
suitcases with her, a briefcase, and her camera bag. It was  
all becoming too much to carry. A young man with dark brown  
hair in a jeep drove up to her just as the worn woman was  
plunking down on the curb, luggage dropped unceremoniously  
beside her.  
"Excuse me miss," said a voice. "Do you need a ride  
somewhere?"  
"Uh, sure. Hospital Point please," Evelyn said,  
throwing her stuff in the back and tiredly climbing in.  
"I'm Trowa Barton, air force pilot," he paused,  
glancing at Evelyn's camera. "Reporter?" Trowa asked.  
Evelyn looked slightly amazed by his assumption, but  
then realized that her professional-grade camera, her  
briefcase, and her smart black skirt-and-jacket ensemble  
didn't indicate 'vacationer' or even 'nurse.' As she thought  
this, she blushed for not responding to him for so long.  
"Yeah. I'm Evelyn Amada. I'm a reporter from D.C."  
She paused again. She had just met him and she didn't  
want to come off sounding too pushy, "But then John didn't  
send me out here to wait for the story to come to me," she  
mused. She looked him right in the eye. "I'd like to film  
you sometime when you fly. You do fly, right?" she said.  
"Everyday if I had it my way. You can film me all you  
want," Trowa replied. He stopped the jeep near Hospital  
Point. "I'll see you later then," he called as Evelyn  
climbed out the jeep, dragging her multitude of cases and  
bags with her.  
  
As the physicals and immunizations came to a close,  
Judy and Quatre left the last few new sailors and pilots in  
the hands of some night nurses that just came on duty. Judy  
rubbed her aching hands absent-mindedly. She supposed that  
was the consequence for sticking the poor boys so hard. Judy  
put away the used equipment while Quatre flipped through a  
dozen or so medical charts and made comments to his head  
nurse, Joy, before turning to Nurse Peterson. "Wanna catch a  
late dinner after the rounds? We can go to the mess hall,"  
he asked invitingly. Her eyes conveyed her reluctance, but  
finally sighed and answered, "Sure," in a defeated tone.  
Sometimes she was too passive for her own good. Dr. Quatre  
smiled.  
They quickly and efficiently made their rounds;  
clipboards were put away, and civilian clothing, 'civies',  
were adorned. When everything was in its appropriate place,  
they walked outside to the steps of the hospital.  
  
As the two entered the noisy mess hall and wandered  
through the crowd searching for a table, food in hand,  
suddenly a loud "JUDY!" was heard somewhere near the far  
left corner of the large building. Both turned as a short  
blur tackled the startled nurse in a hug. Judy looked down  
and shook her head fondly.  
"Hi, Evi. Long time no see," she said calmly, despite  
the fact that the girl was squeezing her tightly. Judy had  
missed her old childhood friend, though she would deny  
immediately had she been questioned. Quatre looked on in  
interest.  
Introductions were made as the trio sat down at a  
table. They were later joined by Duo, who was still rubbing  
his sore bottom. "Do they tell you to stick us hard?" he  
asked.  
"It's regulation," Judy deadpanned as everyone laughed.  
Their group grew larger. Heero Yuy from Naval Communications  
and Trowa Barton, an air force pilot, readily dined with the  
crew of mismatched war volunteers at Duo's adamant request.  
Wufei Chang, the gunner from the USS Arizona, sat sullenly  
with them because there were no empty seats left.   
A warm camaraderie formed between the new (and in some  
cases, old) friends as the talked about the lives they left  
behind, brothers and sister, and even favorite baseball  
teams. Soon the chat grew more serious; they talked about  
their views of the war, why they were at Pearl, and the  
possibility of an attack.  
"I think there will be one. Most of the entire Pacific  
Fleet lies here in Pearl Harbor," said Heero.  
"If they destroy the harbor, nothing will stop them  
from taking the rest of the Pacific and Asia," said Trowa.  
"Looked like we chose the wrong outfit to go to, huh  
Judy?" asked Dr. Quatre.  
"Yeah looks like. Let's just hope they won't need our  
services except for accidents on training missions and  
hung-over officers. But It'd sure make your job interesting  
then, wouldn't it, Evelyn?" said Judy.  
"It'd be quite a story. I'm not saying there should be  
an attack though," Evelyn added quickly.  
"Of course not," said Wufei. "If there is an attack,  
then we'd have to strike back. That is what's just."  
"Yeah, they don't want to mess with the United States  
Navy!" said Duo. "We'd give them a counterstrike they'd  
never forget," he said fiercely.  
  
Part III B - Night of December 6, 1941  
On a cool Saturday night following a dinner in the mess  
hall, Trowa, Duo, and Wufei headed to the local bar for a  
drink. Along with many of their buddies, they began to  
relax, partially due to the liquor.  
  
Judy and Quatre finished their rounds at sick bay and  
bidded the patients a good night.  
  
Heero sat in his office, later than usual. He  
intercepted some coded messages that caught his interest.  
  
As the decoded version of the message was spat out of   
'The Colossus,' Heero's eyes widened in surprise as he head.  
The codes said to stop peace negotiations at a certain time.  
Heero knew something was up. He could feel it in his bones.  
"No good will come of this," he thought as he ran to  
Commander Wilkens' office, just as he was leaving.  
"The Japanese are going to attack us," he said,  
slightly breathless.   
"Do you have proof?" asked Wilkens as he rubbed his  
eyes in exasperation and exhaustion.  
"They're planning to cut off diplomatic relations, and  
their naval fleet is undetected near Japan. They're probably  
headed here," Heero stated. The commander considered  
briefly.  
"Give me hard evidence first, Heero. Until you have  
proof, we'll wait," Wilkens said as he walked down the hall.  
Evelyn sat at her desk. Being a reporter on location  
here wasn't as exciting as being a reporter in D.C. She  
slowly wrote her request to John to place her back at  
Washington, where all the real stories were. There was  
nothing for her here. 


	4. December 7,1941 - Day of Infamy

Part IV - Day of Infamy  
Morning  
The sun shown bright and clear that morning as it  
always did every morning in Hawaii. Trowa and Duo were on  
the runway, out early to log some flight hours. Duo circled  
around the harbor as Trowa went through pre-flight  
procedures before joining him in the sky.  
Nurse Peterson and Dr. Winner were checking up on the  
sleepy patients as they made their early-morning rounds.  
Judy restocked the cabinets with morphine and bandages,  
while Quatre finished scribbling out some paperwork. Heero  
argued with Commander Wilkens on the golf course; he  
insisted that the Japanese fleet was coming. He held up  
messages that he had recently decoded. Wilkens waved him off  
like one would swat at a fly and returned to his golf game.  
Wufei walked along the decks of USS Arizona. A few  
sailors were up and about, mopping the decks. He carefully  
walked around them, avoiding the newly slicked wood beneath  
his feet.  
Evelyn drove up to a view point overlooking Battleship  
Row, the infirmary, and part of the air field. The branches  
of trees nearby waved gently in a light breeze. She loaded  
her camera with some film to take some shots of the  
harbor before she left.  
Attack  
Plane engines roared overhead. Everyone looked up in  
alarm and bewilderment at the Japanese planes that soared  
overhead. The Zeros flew over Battleship Row, and the first  
wave bombs were dropped on the helpless ships docked in  
the harbor. A section of the USS Arizona exploded in a ball  
of fire. Evelyn hid behind a cluster of trees and recorded  
the plane's attacks. Sailors could be heard screaming in  
pain and fear in their last moments, while the lucky ones  
jumped overboard. She gasped in shock as more planes  
appeared, bursting through the docile clouds; they began  
bombing more ships at Battleship Row.  
Above the air field, Duo spotted the planes from the  
sky. He quickly landed and jumped into a plane loaded with  
ammunition. "The Japs are attacking Trowa! Get your ass in a  
plane and get in the sky!" Duo yelled. Trowa nodded and  
scrabbled into a cockpit. Both startled pilots took off and  
immediately began taking out Zeros that were dive-bombing  
the airfield.  
Heero and Wilkens heard explosions in the distance as a  
black government car pulled up. "Commander Wilkens! We're  
under attack! The Japs attacked us! The Japs attacked us!"  
shouted the driver hysterically.  
"I told you they were going to attack. All you had to  
do was read the damned messages!" Heero yelled and jumped  
into his jeep.  
Sirens wailed and alerted the drowsy sailors." Man your  
battle stations!" a voice yelled. "Man your battle stations!  
Go! Go! Go!" Wufei ran to the top deck, slipping slightly  
because it was still a little wet, and loaded his gun. He  
quickly fired back at the bombers. Everyone around him  
rushed to their stations. Some were panicking and jumping  
ship. Others simple got down on their knees and prayed.  
Dr. Quatre heard explosions nearby. He glanced out the  
window and couldn't believe his eyes. All the ships were on  
fire and most of what he could see was black smoke.  
"Judy! Grab the emergency supplies. Get the patients  
out! We're at war!" he shouted. Judy did as she was told and  
dashed to the supply room.  
During the attack  
The USS Arizona began to sink. It tilted crazily and  
many navy men were running blindly throughout the ship,  
looking for a way out. Smoke obscured their view. Everyone  
began to abandon their stations and jump ship. Wufei  
knew that dying wouldn't help anything. He jumped overboard  
and saw one of his fellow gunners bleeding profusely. Wufei  
grabbed his arm and swam towards the beach. He thought of  
nothing else but reaching the shore.  
Heero drove to Battleship Row while dodging a couple of  
bullets. He saw the injured sailors sprawled out on the  
beach and quickly went to assist some of them into his car.  
A Zero changed course and headed straight for them. Heero  
climbed back into his car and hit the gas, speeding to the  
hospital.  
Trowa, Duo, and twelve other pilots managed to take off  
and battle the Zeros. After taking out some near the field,  
Duo and Trowa headed towards Battleship Row.  
Battleship Row was covered with a thick, choking layer  
of smoke. Planes flew in and out of the black cloud as  
sailors below swam for their lives. The unfortunate crew  
members stranded in the bottom of the ships desperately  
tried to escape as the ships exploded or sank. The USS  
Arizona tilted and began to capsize. Sailors jumped in to  
the harbor and were shot at by the Zeros screaming overhead.  
The USS Nevada sailed away from Battleship Row despite  
its extensive damages, but it too began to sink and had to  
beach itself before it was lost in the deeper waters of the  
burning harbor.  
An hour later, Duo and Trowa landed and helped the  
injured people on the runway to the makeshift-hospitals that  
were setup in basements and even office buildings. Bodies  
lay bleeding in the sand and in the water as far as  
the eye could see; the water was tinted red. Debris burned  
all around the harbor. The ambulances that answered their  
calls had exploded. Planes that hadn't left the hangars were  
also ablaze.  
After the attack, battleships in all of the bays burned  
and began to sink. Two were capsizing. Sailors screamed for  
help, but most hadn't a prayer. The dead floated on the  
water. The sounds of ships capsizing were unearthly and  
terrible to hear; the sounds of souls crying for aid and  
pleading for forgiveness in their final moments blending  
with the groaning of the dying ships' engines was nothing  
short of horrific, a nightmare come to life.  
Atop her view point, Evelyn finished recording the  
attack. Stopping her camera, she looked at the destruction  
laid out before her. Large, black clouds of smoke swallowed  
the sky over Battleship Row. In the distance she could see  
the ambulances and cars taking injured to hospitals. Evelyn  
decided to lend a hand and drove her way to the base  
hospital. She was quite worried about her friend, Judy.  
After the Attack  
Counts and estimates were taken. 2,400 people were  
dead. Their bodies were laid in neat rows near the hospital.  
More than 1,000 people were injured. Dr. Winner and Nurse  
Peterson were low on supplies and couldn't help all the  
hurt. Many died before they could be attended to. Eighteen  
ships in the harbor were sunk or damaged. The USS Arizona,  
the best in the Pacific Fleet, had tragically capsized. The  
crew beneath it tried to contact the outside world, but it  
was too late. Heero saw the USS Arizona for the last time  
before the water in the harbor swallowed the ship and its  
occupants down to their watery graves. Wufei watched as the  
ship, his ship, sunk itself in the shallow harbor, and  
cried, albeit briefly, for his comrades trapped inside.  
He saw some people he knew from the USS Arizona floating in  
the water. One of them was his captain.  
The air field was being cleared of the injured and  
dead. Wicked-looking shards of metal littered the runway  
along with spent shells. Few planes in the hangars were left  
intact. 


	5. December 8,1941 - War

Part V - December 8, 1941: War  
News Report from Washington:  
Roosevelt declares war against Japan. "Yesterday,  
December 7th, 1941, a date which will live in infamy, the  
United States of America was suddenly and deliberately  
attacked by the naval and air forces of the Empire of  
Japan..."  
Evelyn also made a report. A film of the ceremony she  
had taken, was shown. "When the body count was confirmed to  
be accurate, a ceremony was held to honor those who had died  
in the attack. A bell was rung in remembrance for every soul  
lost, and a large hangar was filled with coffins of friends,  
crew and civilians alike. Sailors from the USS Arizona also  
mourn their lost buddies. A wreath was laid to mark the  
brave souls whose final resting places are on the harbor  
floor. Sailors, pilots, and the nurses and doctors were  
awarded medals for their bravery during the sudden attack on  
Pearl Harbor."  
After the remembrance ceremony, pilots Duo Maxwell and  
Trowa Barton were awarded the Navy Cross for their  
counterstrike in the skies above Pearl Harbor. Wufei Chang  
of the USS Arizona was also awarded the Navy Cross for his  
bravery during the attack. Dr. Quatre and Nurse Peterson  
were awarded the Purple Heart for their endless work to save  
lives. Heero Yuy, whose warnings were ignored, continued to  
work for the Navy despite discrimination against Japanese .  
Reporter Elizabeth Amada was permanently stationed at Pearl  
Harbor with her new found friends in the Navy.  
  
  
The End  
  
Please review!! We'll write more fics!! 


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